"What could be wrong with her?" Tom muttered as he and the Doctor made their way to the nearest turbolift.
The Doctor shrugged. "Many things."
Tom shook his head. Taking the turbolift down a deck, they didn't speak. As they walked down the corridor they ran across Shara leaving his quarters.
"Hey Doctor, Tom," Shara smiled. "How are you?"
"Fine," Tom nodded before changing the subject. "Have you spoken to Fiona lately?"
"No," he sighed. "Occasionally Myral and I will ask her to dinner but she always has something going on like training with you."
Tom and the Doctor exchanged glances. Shara looked concerned.
"Why? Is she okay?" He made his way over to them.
The Doctor shrugged. "We're about to find out. I suggest you leave us to it, Shara."
Shara frowned but finally agreed. He went off to find Myral but glanced back in concern before entering the turbolift. Tom and the Doctor walked up to Fiona's door. Paris pressed the door chime.
After several moments and no answer, the Doctor sighed and spoke. "Computer, override door lock."
The doors slid open and Tom and the Doctor rushed in. The lights were down.
"Fiona?" Tom called lightly. "Are you in here?"
The Doctor ordered the lights up. The made their way to her bedroom and found Fiona lying on her bed, eyes open as she stared up at the ceiling, a few tears on her face.
"Fiona, what are you doing?" Tom asked in confusion. "We called your name."
"Oh," she muttered, sitting up. "Sorry."
"How are you feeling?" The Doctor asked, taking out his medical tricorder and beginning to scan her.
"Fine," she murmured.
Tom furrowed his brow and folded his arms. "You don't sound fine. Doc?"
The Doctor frowned but shook his head. "Mr. Paris, please leave us."
"Why, what's wrong?" He was concerned.
"That is confidential between doctor and patient," the Doctor insisted. "Wait in the main room if you want."
Tom Paris tried to object but the Doctor shook his head. Eventually giving in, Tom left the Doctor and patient to sit in the main room. The Doctor turned to Fiona who looked altogether unconcerned.
"Fiona, your cortisol levels are extremely high. Your prefrontal cortex has shrunk and your amygdala is enlarged. These are all consistent in someone who has clinical depression." The Doctor sighed as Fiona rolled her eyes and looked at him. "But you are aware of that, aren't you. This isn't the first time you've been like this."
Fiona glared. "It's none of your business."
"Actually as ship's Doctor, it is my business," he shook his head. "How many times has this happened?"
She glared but eventually relented with a sigh. "Every year or so. Sometimes every two years, sometimes more than once a year."
The Doctor nodded. "I want you to come to sickbay with me."
"Now?" She protested. "Why now?"
"Because you're sick," the Doctor explained. "There's some medicine I can administer to you that will help!"
Fiona sighed, slipping off her bed. "Fine."
When the door from her bedroom slid open and she walked into the main room, Tom immediately shot up and joined them. Fiona didn't make eye contact as she followed the Doctor out of the room. Tom was speechless as he followed behind them.
"B'Elanna and I have some holodeck time together, but I'll see you later, Fiona," he insisted. "Right?"
"Sure," she faked a smile. "Later."
He nodded before taking off down the corridor the other direction for the other turbolift. His mind was racing a mile a minute. He'd overheard something about cortisol levels, and he kicked himself for not knowing more medicine. Some assistant to the doctor he was.
"Paris to Torres," he said, tapping his combadge.
"Torres here. Go ahead, Tom."
"You ready," he asked, "I picked out a nice spot for a picnic before my shift in a couple hours."
"On my way. Meet you in holodeck two!"
Meanwhile, Fiona was guided to sickbay by the Doctor. Once there, they wandered in and Fi was ordered to take a bio bed.
"Myral, you are dismissed," the Doctor told Fiona's friend.
The Bajoran woman looked confused and concerned but did as ordered, leaving them alone in Sickbay. The Doctor retrieved a hypospray and injected it with several medicines.
"These should stabilize your cortisol levels," he explained while injected her in the neck. "I want you to see me every day for injections for at least two weeks."
Fiona sighed but didn't protest. "If that's all, Doctor?"
"No, it's not." He folded his arms. "I realize this illness makes you want to isolate yourself from others, but that is the opposite of what you should do."
"I don't want to be alone," she protested, "but I don't want to place myself on anyone else."
The Doctor smiled softly. "For reasons I haven't figured out yet, Tom Paris and Harry Kim seem to have accepted you into their little demonic duo. And Lieutenant Torres values the time she gets to spend teaching you. Don't let your assumptions that no one likes you taint your mind."
Fiona sighed. She gave a quick nod and hopped off the biobed.
"I am prescribing you get at least an hour of holodeck time a day," he added as she went to leave. "I will let the captain know to put you on the schedule."
"Doctor?" She paused, back to him as she faced the door. "Do you think we will see stars again?"
The Doctor smiled though she didn't see. "Yes. Yes we will."
Elsewhere…
Down in the mess hall, Harry Kim sat with young Naomi Wildman as he ate lunch. She was drawing various nebulae and stellar phenomenon.
"Nice drawings," Harry smiled. "You should hang your pictures up around here."
"Good idea!" She grinned. "Will you help me?"
"Sure," laughed Harry.
Together the two of them worked to decorate the mess hall. Harry didn't color, but his height meant he was in charge of hanging Naomi's work. It took about two hours, but by the time Harry's shift was to begin, it was all done.
"Thank you, Ensign!" Naomi clapped her hands together in excitement. "Now we don't have to look at the blackness."
Harry nodded and said goodbye with a huge smile on his face. He left the mess hall and took a turbolift up to Deck One, bridge. Once there, it was he, Tuvok, and Tom on duty. They used less than a skeleton crew these days as not many were needed. On night shifts, Harry worked alone or with one other officer.
Tom was the last to join Tuvok and Harry. He straightened his uniform and ran over to his console without saying a word. They operated in silence for nearly an hour before that silence was broken.
"Tom," Harry said, coming over after a while. "How's Fiona?"
The lieutenant sighed. "I don't know. The doctor said something about cortisol levels before I was dismissed."
Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "That would be consistent with her current symptoms."
Tom and Harry immediately turned to face the Vulcan officer. How did he know?
"You mentioned she has been avoiding people, remaining isolated? She has missed duty shifts and stopped participating in your holodeck simulations." Tuvok nodded. "High cortisol levels could indicate clinical depression."
Harry and Tom exchanged glances. Depression? What were they supposed to do about that?